Another moment, and the gallant command was completely surrounded by a struggling, yelling mass of Indians, many of whom were mounted.
Then commenced the deadliest fight that has ever been known to take place on the plains.
All the attendant noises of a great battle, cannon excepted, could be found here.
The Sioux seemed crazy with both anger and delight; and many a poor fellow, struggling hard in the midst of this sea of humanity, was actually pulled from his horse into the arms of death.
There was no halt made at all.
The command kept compactly together, using their weapons as best they could, but never thinking of retreating.
On, on, was the cry; forward, the shout.
Being prevented from fording the river by the overwhelming force, Custer and his men rode along the shore.
Every second the number of opponents swelled, as those upon the heights came down upon the scene of action; and still the little band went on, trampling down and riding over those who would not get out of the way.
As a single man in a crowd is pushed hither and thither, like a feather floating on the water and at the mercy of the wind, so Custer and his command were drawn away from the river.